Thoughts in the Night
by Nagori no Yume
Summary: Okay...:sigh: Finally finished! Yaoi and Non Yaoi endings, Yaoi is Gojyo x Hakkai. A bare hint of citrus in there, but that's it. Comment me, please! :toddles off to work on more stories:
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: I'm slowly easing myself into the dark and pirahna filled waters of the sea known as Yaoi. I'm pretty sure I'll still write some coughcough normal stuff, but as a warning...Anyway. This one isn't quite yaoi yet...I'm working on the endings now. Two seperate ones. Ugh.)

(One last note...I HATE how I started, since it's so...wandery and stupid. Vapid. Completely devoid of purpose. I stuck it on anyway, though...it gets better.)

I'm not the man I used to be, all right.

Maybe I never was. Ever since Jien, no, excuse me, Dokugakuji (That is one helluva mouthful, but I guess it suits the bastard...even if I'm really the only one deserving of that particular title) killed off Mom to save me...ever since he left me in that shack a mile away from her decomposing body, I've never been the same.

And now that I think about it, I've got my own masks. I don't smile, like Hakkai, or frown like Sanzo, but I've got a million of them. My come hither, you foxy lady face, my gambling face, my Sanzo's trying to kill me face...yeah, a million, but they're not real. Even though they come naturally, they're not real.

I never thought about this before we came along to Kami-sama's place. Why the hell should I? I had booze, smokes, ladies...everything in life that I needed. But I guess I was just being stupid, you know? First the kid. I've never been good around crying ladies, but kids...kids I understand. Poor boy was trying to save his brother, or what he thought was his bro. I can't blame him. Stupid thing to do, but hey, I tried to get love from someone who hated me. Who's the stupid one after all?'

I think only Hakkai realized why I left. I was...afraid to face myself, my true face, the face I saw on Kinkaku. And I knew that Hakkai would read my mind and talk to me, and I knew I couldn't survive that. Not a snowball's chance in hell. And then I decided to kill Kami-sama, or at least figure out why he'd do that. Figure out why Mom would do that.

I guess I should've known that the bastard would use her against me, but I didn't think. I just knew that I had a chance to make her happy, that I could die and never be tortured again by my memories of the look on Jien's face. But I've changed in those years, and I can't help that. I could, but I'm a cockroach, and us roaches don't die easy.

And it's night, the first night since we truly settled down in this town. Sanzo and Monkey-face are back in a temple, and Hakkai and I pooled our money to get a cheap little apartment-house. It's only got four rooms and a hallway, so that means we've got a kitchen, bathroom, living/dining room, and bedroom.

We slept on the floor the first few weeks until we pulled enough money from poker to buy some furniture. The plan was that I'd sleep on the sofa and he'd have the bed, but the only sofa we could get was one with three places that'd give you a vasectomy free of charge. So we dumped that idea and just got a big bed. The bedroom was too small (the closet screwed up the bed space) for two separate ones, especially if you liked blood circulating below the knee when you passed between them.

Yeah, life's okay. I could feel Hakkai's smooth breathing, deep and slow, without more than a soft snore on occasion. It's wierd how small he seems even now. He's just as big as I am, but when he sleeps, it's like he shrinks. Jeep's curled on his stomach, the safest place from my kicking and probably the softest place on Hakkai.

I remember when we first got Jeep.

_It's six in the morning, and I'm jerked out of sleep by a strident car horn. I fall out of bed, my skin shrinking away from the cold floor. I rub the goosebumps from my arms and look out the window, where the sun is barely making a golden halo on the horizon. An olive-green jeep is outside the shabby little apartment. I blink and look around to find out who in the hell dared to wake me at six in the fucking morning, and see no one._

_"The hell?" _

_Another blast comes from the abandoned car. I can almost see the other tenants stirring and cursing the noise. I turn to check on Hakkai, but he's already gone. Damn. I yank on worn slippers and shuffle out into the cold, ready to beat the hell out of that car. But it's not there anymore. Instead, a small white _thing_ sat on Hakkai's shoulder and kyu'ed._

_"Look, Gojyo. It's a dragon."_

_"That's one helluva small dragon. Where's the car?" I look around, the broom I'd grabbed in hand._

_"He_ is_ the car."_

_"What the heck? Don't screw around with me, Hakkai, I'm gonna kill tha-"_

_A small puff of dust rises from the jeep's wheels. I stare. And suddenly there's a small ripple over the surface of the car and the dragon is back._

_"Wha?"_

_"I think I'll keep him. He seems to like me." No,really? It was curled around his neck, cheeping softly. Good lord. I tramped back up the stairs._

_"Whatever. I'm goin' back to sleep."_

I don't know where the dragon came from, but it never made any trouble after that, and the other tenants figured some kid had played a prank. We didn't tell them any different.

Every time I look at that dragon, I swear I almost remember something, but it's always almost, and always faint. A lot like the memory of my mother.

Sometimes I'll be on the streets, just walking, when maybe a certain dress style, hair color, body shape, anything, even a basket of pears once, will bring back the faintest scent of

_(poppies water woman)_

something I don't know, and I wish I could place a face to that scent. I really do.

And so I can't really do anything about my life, I think. Can't do anything about the red of my hair, can't do anything about the red of my eyes. So for now I'm just living for myself. No one else to live for.

It's summer, and the night's warm. I walk back from the bar, pockets jingling with extra change and a lump in one where the wad of money's nested. It's humid, too, but I don't really pay this any mind - the mosquitos are far worse than a little sweat. I swear and swat, but it's late, really late, and I know Hakkai'll be asleep. Part of me bellows that it needs rest, the beer and smoky air just wasn't worth the exhaustion now and the hangover later, so hell with him and his sleep.

I can hear the sound of slow feet in an apartment on the way back, and low voices. One is high and panicked, the other rumbling like thunder. A third joins in with timid staccato notes. This a melody I think I know, I'm _sure_ I know, and before I can really think, I'm standing at the window, peeking in through the drapes. I know they can't see me, the light's too dim, the air too smoky. And suddenly I know exactly where this is from.

I know because I've heard the same tune before, when I was younger. I'm scared for no reason, but I keep my eyes on the scene before me. A young child, I'm not sure if it's a girl or boy, shrinks into a chair, eyes wide and fearful. A man stands, his shoulders and head thrust aggressively forward, his hands clenched in angry fists. A woman is backed into a corner, her hands twisted together, held up to her lips. Even in the poor light I can see she has a bruise on her forearm, large and black and vicious, and a black eye. The man's words are unclear, but his intention is obvious.

He strikes the child, shouting, and I can see by the redness that suffuses his face that he's drunk. I go to the door, wanting to help, and realizing there's no way, there's no possible way to stop this. The minute I go in, he'll turn his anger on me. And even if I beat him up, he'll turn on the woman and child later. But I can't just let him do this. I summon my shakujou and shatter the wooden door.

Everything is silent for a moment, then as I predicted, the man turns on me.

"What the fuck're you doin' in my house!"

His voice is slurred. I know he's drunk - the alcohol poisons the air around him.

"What the fuck're you doing to that kid?"

The man's face goes purple, and I wonder hopefully if he's going to have a heart attack.

"None of your business. 'Ey, you haven't been cheating on me, have you? Have you!"

The woman shrinks further and shakes her head, her voice high and breathless, and she doesn't seem able to talk. All she can do is squeak.

"You shouldn't treat a lady like that, man. What's she done to you?"

His face is apoplectic.

"DONE! DONE! She's gone and had this damn child, look at the bastard! He ain't even mine!"

I glance at the kid, and notice something that stops me cold. He has red hair, but his eyes...they're puffed up, blackened, and you can't tell what color they're supposed to be. A bastard. A bastard like me. But the look in those eyes breaks something in me. He's begging for me to please go, please don't make it worse. But my temper's up.

"So? Can't find anyone to pick on your own size, fatso?"

He bellows in rage, swings a roundhouse punch at my head. I duck and knock his legs out from under him. He's on the floor, groaning. I put up my weapon - fair is fair. The kid's whimpering against the cushion, curled tight against the felled giant at his feet. I turn toward him, meaning to comfort him, when there's a flash of pain. And I'm kneeling on the carpet, getting well acquainted with stains and interwoven hairs, the back half of my head throbbing incessantly. The man's breathing heavily, a broken beer bottle in his hand.

I'm confused for a moment, icy liquid soaking my hair and running down my neck. And then I know what's going on, and I stand slowly.

"That's for you, you son of a-"

I don't wait. I lunge forward, sink my fist into his belly, bring my knee into his crotch. Draw my other hand back and crush it into his face, let my foot down so I can use to other one to kick him in the stomach. He's down, gasping for air. There's a gurgling quality I don't like in his throat, but I don't care right now. I'm scared something's happened to the kid.

I breathe a sigh of relief too early. He's relaxed now, head tilted curiously toward where the fight took place, but there's a strange stillness about him. And now I'm sure there's something wrong. My steps are unsteady, but I kneel before this boy, touch his shoulders gently. My arms are too tired to support this new weight, and my hands rest curled on the seat. A gleam of greenish light attracts my attention. A shard of glass, at least as long as my hand, though not nearly as wide, has gone through his neck. Improbable. Impossible.

And suddenly I realize that my hands are coated with the blood that has stopped pumping out of his throat only moments ago. I raise them, stare at them, until the sheer silence gets to me. I turn. The woman sits sprawled on the floor. I shuffle on my knees toward her, eerily entranced by her stillness. A cloying sweet smell hangs on her, and if it wasn't perfume, it was definatly opium. Opium, in this day and time. She is too thin, too rotted for it to be anything else. I suppose her heart had given out. I reach for her bare shoulder.

One drop of blood swells, grows pregnant, and drops onto her worn, off-white sleeping gown. A dot of red on a field of white. It scares me, or wakes my fear back up into way too high levels. And I'm gone, running down the road, not quite daring to rub the blood on my shirt. I don't know why.

Our door looms large, and I almost touch the knob. But I jerk my hand away to poke at the doorbell with my elbow. The sound of it is loud, too loud, in my ears.

I fidget for an eternity, holding my arms out awkwardly from my body. At last the door opens. I totter forward. He catches me by the shoulders, and I try to hide my hands. He just looks at me silently for a moment, then helps me into the dusky house and to the sink. runs the water over my hands. I'm feeling like the world's biggest baby, but most of me needs to be reassured. Needs to know someone won't blame me, even if it's only to return the favor.

"You know..."

"What? I can't read your mind, Hakkai." My voice shakes. I know he knows, but neither of us mentions it. It's an elephant in the living room. He looks at me, and we both understand - that day years ago, when I stumbled across him on that path. In the rain. It's not raining now, though there's a rumble of deep thunder every minute or so.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

There's a vacuum of silence between us. I rub my hands on a semi-clean towel. Hakkai picks up a container of tea, then puts it down. He looked almost helpless in the dark kitchen.

"What happened, Gojyo?"

I open my mouth, intending to throw his words back at him - that it was nothing, nothing at all, but what comes flooding out is tonight's story, tonight's horror show. He steers me to the cheap plastic chairs around the table.

" -And the kid, Hakkai...I swear he asked me to stop, but -"

"Gojyo...it's okay. You need sleep, you've been drinking too much, anyway."

It's okay? It's okay! How was this okay? How was ruining any possibility of an even slightly decent future for a boy like that okay? I stand up and shake my head.

"It's not okay. I'm sleeping on the couch tonight."

He looks a little hurt at this, but I manage to arrange myself on the couch with only one rib broken this time. I hear him pattering around in the kitchen, and then silence.

(A/N: Don't ask me if that kid was really a half breed, I don't really know or care. There'll be a yaoi and non yaoi ending on this, seperate chapters. I'll update it later when I've written them...comment me? Even if it's for flames? pulls on asbestos suit)


	2. Yaoi

A/N: Eeegh. Yaoi. Shonen ai, too, but I think it's just lime-ish. First outright yaoi story, or ending at least, so...comment? Please? Because I'm kind of...eh. Read it and enjoy. And by the way...milk with honey is really good. Especially with a little cinnamon, vanilla, and almond flavoring. Even cold.

I wait ten minutes, the high, tinny sound of silence pushing into my eardrums. Nothing. I strain my ears, let what little youkai blood take control. I can hear the smooth exhale, then inhale, the cycle of breath. I breathe out slowly, just now aware that I'd been holding my own air in all this time. I edge off the couch, pad quietly to the kitchen. I needed something to calm me down. Not tea, that was for sure. I settle on a cup of hot milk with a little honey stirred in.  
The pan of milk is slow in bubbling, so I wait, checking my pockets for a cigarette. Damn. I came up with nothing. No smoke, then. Dammity damn damn. I jump at the slow growl of thunder, so far away even the lightning hadn't appeared yet.  
My mind runs over the events of the day, pausing the point where I'd hurt Hakkai. I should've sucked it up and just gone to bed instead of obviously dissing him. I sigh and stick in a finger to check the temperature - it's not quite warm enough yet to be hot, but I didn't want to burn the milk. I stir in the honey, sipping the stuff straight from the pan. And then I realize that maybe, just maybe, Mom's influence really did stick. It was something she'd do to me, and to Jien.  
_"Mom, we're okay. It's okay. Don't -"  
"Don't you ever leave Mommy, Jien! Never!"  
Red hair red eyes, he stands to the side, hands clenched and head bowed.  
"Mom! It's okay! Come on, I'll take you to bed, okay?"  
"No! You don't love me, I'd rather sleep with that thing."  
The boy starts to slowly slide back, away from the woman. But she's too fast. Her slap leaves him on his behind, tears making slow curling currents in his eyes. The brother grabs her and leads her off, now as gentle as the senile old lady she would have been.  
"That thing? Is that what I am to her?"  
One more scar on a mass of them, on a miraculously tender and innocent heart.  
_I don't want to believe that I've turned out to be like the person I most hated in the world. I pour the honeyed milk into two mugs and carry them carefully to the bedroom door; A narrow bar of light shines from under it. So he's still awake, then. I nudge it with my elbow, it pops open.  
He's propped up on pillows, both his and mine, his eyes steady on his book. But they don't move, there's no chance he's really reading. I guess it's his way of telling me he's disappointed and that I can get my sad, worthless ass back to the couch, but I go ahead and sit down on the edge of the bed and offer a cup to the book's cover. Hakkai hesitates for a long moment, but takes it. The silence isn't really a silence now. It's awkward, dense with hurt, both mine and his. We drink milk to fill it in.  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't've asked." He breaks it first. His voice is soft, his tone is hard. He is insincere, but I can tell he's trying to smooth it over, to make it okay again. Just like Jien. And it hurts.  
"No...I should've...I shouldn't've said that...I should've..." I shut up before my IQ starts dropping.  
"Gojyo, I-"  
I stop him with a desperate tackling hug, the last vestiges of milk flying in creamy droplets. I'm afraid that maybe he'll say that we need to separate, that we need to live actual separate lives. Worse, that maybe he really hates me, despite the journey we'd endured together. And I guess I realized just ho much I really needed him. Just how bad my life would be without his sense of order.  
Then my body catches up with my half-formed thoughts of what I was doing, and I stiffen and pull away, my eyes turned down in shame. But Hakkai's hands flutter, long-fingered and almost pretty, flitting onto my shoulders, becoming more confident in their touch. I raise my eyes to his face, reading the mixed feelings there. Feelings of shock, of longing, of hurt, of tentative happiness, perhaps even affection and love.  
"Hakkai?"  
He turns away, shoves my pillows back onto my side of the bed.  
He turns away, and something in me grows and breaks and dies, blowing away in dry ashes. And so, I sigh, and flick off the light, and regret what could have been.  
But I can't sleep, and though the night is warm and stiflingly humid, so humid that we're both in boxers and little else. The sheets under my body are damp with sweat, but I feel cold. I shut my eyes and try to sleep the best I can. I don't realize what I'm doing until the clammy skin of my back touches his, and we both jump and both pretend that it didn't happen. But after a little while the bed creaks slightly, and the tender touch of his arm sliding around my waist makes me realize that he must think I'm asleep.  
A flash of lightning, and inwardly I count. One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...a deep rumble shakes the air. The storm is a good two miles away, but even from there it affects Hakkai. A tremor shakes his frame, oddly fragile to me now, and edges a little closer, tightening his hold on me. And maybe it's just too many hired whores, too many nights of seduction, but I turn and kiss him, missing his lips in the dark and getting the base of his throat instead, probably because most of my experiences were with shorter women, and where their lips were his throat was instead.  
He backs away, raising himself slightly on one arm, his eyes shocked. But I reach out and draw him against me again, kissing on the mark and ignoring his weak, muffled protests. I know perfectly well why he's struggling. I know that we both have had women, his quality and my quantity, but this seems strangely right, and I'm not shy about making this clear to him. But he breaks away, horrified.  
"Gojyo, no! This...this..."  
I don't let him finish,simply planting kisses on his face and throat, nuzzling against his chest. His struggles cease, and I know he's accepted me, accepted the only thing I could give him, the only thing skill I had, the only true thing of value, only more. I give him what is left of my tired, scarred heart, knowing he'll never break it, always treasure it. He gives me his, quiet and shriveled. Lightning flashes, thunder rolls, and rain falls silver around the shelter of our arms.


	3. Non Yaoi

The thunder moves closer, and I trying to arrange myself into a semi-comfortable position, lacking the benefit of a blanket or a pillow to try and cushion those vicious springs. Finally I get up instead, flicking on the kitchen light and rubbing my eyes. I was just...sleepless tonight, restless too, and no matter how many times I opened the refrigerator door, there wasn't anything that interested me in the least. No comfort food, not even beer or the half empty bottle of gin from the last time the High and Mighty Lord Sanzo came to visit with his attendant Chimp of Greatest Stupidity.

It's like an itch I can't scratch, the feeling that I should go and do something but just don't want to. Not indecision, but a kind of lack of energy and focus, the kind that makes kids whine that they're bored, but are stubborn in staying bored. I sigh. Dammit.

And so I walk down the hall, the bottle of gin dangling limply from my hand. It's strange, but I just feel like someone's watching me. Someone...The door is not quite shut and the lights are off. I contemplate going in, reach for the doorknob and turn away instead. I walk back down the hall and open the door, shutting it carefully so that Hakkai doesn't wake up. I uncap the gin, take a swig and feel my head pound and then numb. The wind whips at my hair, and I tuck on side behind my ear so it doesn't get all over my face.

The night is cloudy, dark ominous grays and purples forecasting rain. I take another mouthful of gin, the dry, bitter taste lingering in my mouth like guilt. But for now, I plan to get good and drunk, just forget what happened. No one would suspect me, anyway. It was late, no witnesses, and the best they'd come up with would be that the old man killed his son and the wife died of shock. Easy, off-my-conscience sort of stuff. But it was still there with me.

The rain starts falling, tiny little drops at first and finally huge ones with hail stones mixed in. But by then I'm drunk. I tip the bottle upward and poke my tongue out, trying to get that last drop when I start feeling dizzy. I drop it and curl up to go to sleep, to lose consciousness, to lose myself. I wriggle lazily so that my legs are away from the smothering rain, uncaring that my bed is a sheet of concrete and my blanket the sullen fog. Darkness.

"Gojyo! Gojyo!"  
"LemmegoIdunwanna..."

My head pounds every time he shakes my shoulders. The concrete is warm and wet underneath my butt, so I guess Hakkai pulled me into a sitting position. My left shoulder and hip are stiff, my eyes scratchy. I push him away weakly and tuck my head down, going back into sleep.

And finally I wake up on my own. It's dark now, and I feel okay, just a little hungover. I stumble, catching myself on the low coffee table. Apparently Hakkai got me back in here, and for the first time in a long time, I realize I was trying to die.

Maybe he was just repaying me for helping him so many years ago, or perhaps our bond is stronger than I usually think. But I know I won't leave him, that I can't leave him, but I'm denying this. One day, maybe, I think, I'll leave again. Not like anyone needs me. But I know better, and so tonight I walk down the hallway. And now it's a throat, white and cracked, and I'm willingly going down. I turn and this time I open the door and sit on the edge in the dark. The slight stirring of Hakkai scooting to give me room, even in his sleep, is all I can hear, and for once, the silence is good.


End file.
